Chapter 25 #2
“So, you didn’t trust me? Did you think I’d be pissed?” Jasper sounds more disappointed than I’d ever heard him and I hate myself even more. I can’t even meet Leon’s gaze.
“It wasn’t about trust. It was about not wanting to complicate things if it didn’t work out.” The words feel wrong as they spill from my lips. “We were going to tell you.”
“Were you?” Jasper asks quietly.
“Yes,” I whisper. “It was a long time ago and… it doesn’t matter right now.”
“Firefly?” Leon asks.
I can’t look at him, can’t talk to him right now. I know what I said hurts, but it’s the truth. None of that matters, because that girl is gone. I turn to Blake. “I’d like you to look me over. But not here. Not with everyone watching.”
Blake nods immediately. “Of course. We can use one of the bedrooms. Just you and me.”
I start to follow Blake, passing by Leon and Jasper, but pause a few steps beyond them. “I want to know what you’re avoiding telling me,” I say, glancing between the two. “About how you found me. After Blake’s done, tell me everything.”
Leon looks like I’ve just asked him to end my life. “Bailey—”
“Everything, Leon. No more protecting me from the truth. I don’t need protecting.
Not anymore.” I cross my arms over my chest, and keep myself from looking at Leon.
“And yes, Jas, we can call Mom and Dad. But I need to understand what happened first. How you found me, all of it. I’m sure they’ll have questions too. ”
Damon clears his throat. “What about going back to the estate?”
I think of Polly’s body, probably still in the woods. Of Cat and the others who might still be somewhere out there in the world. “Did you call the police like you said? Make the anonymous tip?”
Damon nods.
“Good. Let them handle the estate. There’s no one else there against their will. It was just me and Polly.”
“Bailey—” Leon starts again, but I hold up my hand, inches from his chest.
“After Blake’s done. Then we’ll talk.” I look at each of them, my gaze lingering on Leon’s pained expression. “But first, I need to know I’m okay. Physically, at least.”
“Shouldn’t you go to a hospital? Or the police?” Falin asks. “I’m just confused about what we’re still doing sitting around.”
The question hangs in the air, and I can see everyone processing it.
She’s right, of course. In any normal situation, that’s exactly what we’d do.
But nothing about this is normal. I wish I had the right answer, but I’m just as confused as everyone else.
And if I think about it too long… Sitting in a sterile room, having to recount every horrible thing that happened to me. That King did. No, I can’t do it.
“The hospital will ask questions,” Damon says quietly. “Questions we might not be ready to answer yet.”
“And the police...” Jasper trails off, looking at me with pain in his eyes. “They’ll want statements, evidence, details about everything that happened. This is so much bigger than just the estate.”
Leon speaks up. “We can’t trust the police. For all I know they’re in on it. It’s enough that we sent in the tip… We can check on that. Maybe if some news turns up, we’ll get a better read on the situation.”
“I can keep an eye on that,” Falin says.
The hallway goes quiet while they all work out their thoughts. I know I’m missing a major piece of this puzzle. They must feel the same way without my full story.
“I’m not ready for hospitals or police stations or having to explain myself to strangers, anyway. Not tonight.” I look at Blake. “Can you just... sort of check me over? Make sure I’m not dying or anything? Then we can figure out the rest.”
Blake nods. “Of course. I’ll do a basic exam, make sure there’s nothing that requires immediate attention.”
“Thank you.” I breathe a sigh of relief.
“We’ll be downstairs,” Jasper says. “Take your time.”
As the others start to move away, Leon catches my arm gently. “Bailey…”
“After,” I say firmly, pulling away from his touch. “Please.”
The hurt that flashes across his face makes me feel like a monster, but I need to make sure I’m okay. And I don’t know… I’m just not ready for whatever he has to say to me. I need to hear it, but later.
Blake touches my shoulder. “Come on. Let’s go into my bedroom.”
I wrap my arms around my chest and follow her, noticing the way Falin squeezes Jasper around the middle on their way down the stairs. The comfortable affection they share with each other is sweet. I hope he’s treating her right.
Blake leads me into a bedroom nearby. It’s cozy with pale blue walls and worn in wooden furniture. In the corner, I spot her suitcase with clothes spilling out and another one nearby, still zipped up.
“Come have a seat,” she says, patting the bed. “I didn’t bring much, but something told me to bring the basics.”
I watch as she pulls out a smaller bag from the suitcase and sets out a stethoscope, blood pressure cuff, and a small zip-up first aid kit onto the bed. Her shoulders square, almost like she’s slipping into professional mode. It makes me feel better to see her this way, more secure.
“So,” she says, standing beside me. “I want you to know that you’re in complete control here. We can stop anytime you want, and you don’t have to answer any questions you’re not ready for.”
“Okay,” I say, uncrossing my arms.
“And of course, everything we talk about is confidential. I may be Damon’s girlfriend, but right now you’re my patient.” Her hand reaches for my arm and instead of flinching, I allow her to place a gentle hold there. “Are you okay if I take some notes in my phone?”
I nod. It would be helpful to not have to repeat myself later.
“Have you been eating regularly? Getting enough water?”
“More recently, yes. Before...” I hesitate, not wanting to get into the details yet. “It depended on the situation.”
Blake makes a note in her phone. “Any pain I should know about? Headaches, stomach issues, anything like that?”
I take a moment to assess my body. “Not really. There’s been headaches, and pain, but I think it was situational.”
“I’d like to listen to your heart and lungs, check your blood pressure. Nothing invasive. If you’re okay with that?” She pauses. “Oh and I know this might be difficult to think about, but have you had any medical attention while you were gone? Any treatments or medications?”
I know what she’s really asking… the same thing I’m most anxious about. “There’s been medications, but I don’t know what they were. Otherwise, no. I haven’t seen a doctor.”
Blake’s expression doesn’t change, but I notice her brows raise slightly. “Okay. We don’t need to get into details now, but it would be good to get some blood work done. Just to make sure everything’s okay.”
I hang my head and murmur in agreement.
“We can find a good clinic nearby. I’ll come with you… if you’d like.”
I take a shaky breath. “Maybe tomorrow? I think I need to process tonight first.”
“Of course,” she says, her voice so gentle tears well in my eyes. “And Bailey, I want you to know that whatever happened to you, it doesn’t define you. You’re in there still.”
I swallow down the lump in my throat. “I don’t feel like me anymore.”
“That’s normal… Trauma is a bitch. It changes us, but down here,” she taps her chest, “in our core, we’re still the same.
” She reaches for a necklace tucked into her shirt.
“It’s nothing like what you’ve gone through, but I lost my mom and brother super close together, and then my other brother recently. ”
“I’m so sorry,” I say.
She stares past me at a spot on the wall, but I catch the pain lingering in her eyes.
“For a long time, I felt like the Blake I used to be had died with them. I still struggle, but talking about it has helped. There’s a really good therapist back in New York, if you’d like to see her…
whenever we head back, I mean. She helped me process my grief, taught me that healing doesn’t mean going back to exactly who you were before, but taking your experiences, learning from them, and finding a new version of yourself. ”
I don’t know how to respond and find myself sitting with her words. She seems to snap back to the present, tutting to herself, and grabbing her stethoscope.
“Ready to make sure you’re physically okay so you can focus on everything else. Is it alright if I listen to your heart?”
She runs through a basic exam, and I notice that after the initial contact my shoulders relax slightly. For the first time in over a year, someone is touching me with care instead of violence or control. It’s a small thing, but maybe it’s the first step toward reclaiming my body as my own.
“Everything sounds good,” Blake says finally, packing up her equipment. “Your heart rate’s a little elevated, but that’s normal given everything you’ve been through. Your lungs are clear.”
“So I’m okay?”
“You’re alive, you’re breathing, your heart is beating. The rest...” She gives me a small smile. “The rest we’ll figure out one day at a time.”